


Driving Responsibly

by LolMouse



Series: Side Stories [1]
Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: But Also Part Of A Series, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Oneshot, Racing, Standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolMouse/pseuds/LolMouse
Summary: While most of the Titans are away, Cyborg teams up with a late addition to the team to protect Jump City from drug-peddling grandmas and hot rod racers.





	Driving Responsibly

"You know what the worst part of my old job was, girl?"

The man waved his handgun vaguely around the store from his perch on the counter. The other two men had taken their stations, one guarding the three shoppers who had remained in the store, the third stuffing his pockets with various small items. Outside was a fourth, watching the entrance to make sure no one got in. The cashier, a short-haired college student with her arms in the air, did her best to try to answer the man robbing her.

"W-was it the customers, sir?"

"See, that's what everyone says", said the man, adjusting his glasses with the barrel of his pistol, his gray suit frayed and worn. "You think it's the customers because they whine, and moan, and try to cheat you, and keep threatening you with your own manager. But there's a reason the customers are so bad, a deeper reason."

"What... what reason is that?" the cashier stammered.

"It's our broken consumer culture! The entitlement our managers have instilled in the common man to make us all resent each other. It goes all the way to the top."

"Boss," said the man guarding the other shoppers, nervously flicking his blonde ponytail around as he tried to keep watch. "Maybe we should get a move on?"

"We'll get a move on when we're done!" shouted the leader, making the hostages cringe.

 

 

 

 

 

Outside, a large teen in a blue and white hoodie was listening from around the corner by tapping into the store's cameras, keeping a careful watch on the burly guard by the entrance. One of his eyes glinted red in the evening gloom. "Man, it had to be a wannabe street preacher. You hearing this?"

"Sure am, tin man." The girl's voice on his comm sounded bored.

"I count four of them, one by the entrance, one in the back by the freezers with hostages, one by the shelves up front and preacher man by the register."

"Gotcha. Give me an in and I'll go for the suit. See you inside."

He thought he could hear a bit of music over the comm.

 

 

 

 

 

"They promise us safety, too, girl. See this logo?" The suit-and-tie man pointed with his gun at the Wayne Security Solutions logo on the register. "That was my job until a week ago. And you know what I learned?"

"W-what, sir?"

"They don't care about you or me. The silent alarm - which I disabled, of course, so don't think anyone's coming - is about calling the police to catch thieves and protect goods. Whether you live or die is immaterial. That's not the security system's job. As far as your employers and mine are concerned, we're replaceable stock."

The cashier flinched, watching the man's gun being waved around like a baton. "I don't want to b-be replaced, sir."

"Exactly!" he said. "Who wants that? But we built our system where human lives matter less than a bunch of-"

He was interrupted by the tiny bell chime of the store's door. A girl in a black hooded jacket lined with strange symbols embroidered in silver thread entered the store. She ignored what was happening, apparently intently listening to her headphones which blared some unidentifiable bit of bubbly pop music across the now-silent store, her face obscured.

"Hey! Hey, you!" The man on the counter adjusted his glasses. "What the hell is Jimmy thinking? Wasn't he supposed to be on guard?"

The newcomer ignored him, bobbing up and down and humming with the music as she scanned the shelves. Her purple-and-black striped leggings swayed as she moved her feet to the tune.

"Can you hear me! God dammit, take off your headphones!" He got up off the counter and walked towards the hooded girl.

"How much for this?" asked the girl suddenly, her face still hidden under the hood. She raised her hand, revealing a bubble blower she'd taken from a shelf. She blew into it suddenly, sending a cascading soapy rainbow of bubbles into the robber's face. Several bubbles hit his glasses, obscuring them and flicking soap particles into his eyes.

The robber yelled and stumbled backwards. There was a tiny flash of light, and suddenly he fell completely backwards into the store's instant coffee machine, the hot contents spilling out over his head. He screamed and dropped his gun just in time to feel the girl's boot on the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

Before the other two could register what was happening, the storefront window crashed. Through it came the body of the burly guard from outside, flying sideways into the robber whose pockets were lined with sodas, candy and beef jerky. They fell into a heap and behind them came a large teen.

"Booyah!" he said, and punched once. It was all he needed.

The one man by the hostages panicked and fired wildly, not knowing who to aim at. Another strange flash of light put an end to that as he shot a can of tomato sauce which splattered into his eyes and he fell backwards into a shelf, knocking himself out. The hostages stood completely still, too shocked by this turn of events to even run.

"So," said the hooded girl to the baffled cashier. "Can I bum a stale doughnut or two off you? I get hungry when I'm on patrol."

"You can pay for your food like the rest of us," said the other teen, busily cuffing the four men.

"Spoilsport!" she said, but stopped. From the back came the unmistakable sound of a flushing toilet. From the bathroom, right next to the hostages, emerged a man in a red durag, adjusting his pants, clearly not even having washed his hands. He whistled for a second before taking in the scene.

No one moved for a second. Then he grabbed a little old lady next to him, pointing a gun at her head.

"Nobody move or grandma gets it!"

"Cyborg," said the hooded girl. "You said there were four."

"There were four! In the store. And one outside." The big teen looked a little panicked.

"Oh ha ha. We're a bit beyond skating by on technicality."

"I mean it!" shouted the remaining robber, not liking where this conversation was going. "Get away from the door or she gets it!"

"Shut up!" said the hooded girl, shocking him into silence. "This is your own fault for taking too long to take a shit! Cyborg, you have to tighten up your intel!"

"He's got a hostage, girl!" said Cyborg. "Priorities!"

The robber pointed his gun at the hooded girl. "Move it!"

The hooded girl looked at him, then slowly raised one hand, pointing a finger right back at him, menacing him with a finger gun pose.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" the hostage taker chuckled nervously.

The girl moved her hooded jacket aside, revealing a circular badge on her belt. The robber flinched. No, not a badge. A communicator. Emblazoned with a big T. There wasn't a person alive in Jump City who didn't know what that meant.

"Shit!" he said. "How did the Titans find us?"

"Maybe you just have rotten luck." The girl used her other hand to push back her hood and released a bit of pink energy, making her hair stand up in a pair of bright pink horns from where they'd lain under the hood. She smiled mischievously, staring into his eyes with her pink slitted ones. "It happens to the worst of us."

"Jinx", said Cyborg. "I don't have an angle to fire my cannons safely."

"Chill. I got this."

"You ain't got shit!" said the robber. The little old lady in his arms squinted.

"Jinxy, girl? Is that you, deary?" she said, uncertainly. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hello, missus Goodkind," nodded Jinx, her eyes briefly darting to the old woman's face and back. "Still fostering kids for the state?"

"You know how kind I am, deary," she said. Somehow, talking to Jinx made her seem more nervous than being held hostage. The hostage taker stared at Jinx, not comprehending what was happening.

"And do you still make them deal the crack you cook on your stove back home before you let them eat? Or have you branched out into prescription stuff again lately?"

"Why deary, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Really? So that wasn't little Franklin I walked past on the corner of Fifth and Metropolitan with a bunch of baggies of powdered painkillers? Could have sworn I recognized him. He waved at me and everything."

The old lady shut up, swallowing nervously. Cyborg looked between them, confused. "Man, this just got really weird," he muttered.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" said the robber, his aim shaky as he switched to pointing at Missus Goodkind's head.

"Your luck must be especially rotten today, my man. Missus Goodkind there is in good with the Nine-niners. Or did you switch employers again? I hear there's a new boss in town lately."

"Oh you know me deary," Goodkind said, clearly not enjoying herself. "I just work for whoever's best for the kids."

"Either way," said Jinx, staring into the robber's eyes. "You're aiming at someone who's got an in with multiple gangs and even a kingpin or two. You think you're in trouble if you shoot at me? That's nothing compared to what happens if you shoot Nana Goodkind."

"You can't scare me!" the robber shouted. "I'll shoot her if you don't let me go! I mean it!"

"And?" The pink eyes didn't waver for a second.

That shocked him. "And? I'll kill her!"

"And the streets will lose an abusive foster grandma who uses kids to sell drugs. What do I lose?"

"Why must you be so cruel, girl?" asked Goodkind rhetorically.

"Jinx!" said Cyborg. "Now I know you don't mean that!" He didn't look like he believed his own words.

"What kinda hero are you?!" shouted the robber.

"My kind," said Jinx, ignoring Cyborg. "The real question here is, what kind of criminal are you? You shoot grandma there, the streets lose nothing I'll miss, you put yourself on a lot of shit lists and I'll get you easily. You shoot me, I risk hitting her before I hit you and you just might take out someone with a Titan communicator on their belt. What kind of odds do you want to play? Better make it quick." As she finished talking, a tiny pink glow began to form itself at the end of her finger.

The only sounds were Jinx's headphones mixing with the bland music of the store as they stared each other down.

The robber hesitated. A tiny droplet of sweat rolled down his nose. His hand shook. The drop hit the corner of his eye and he panicked, shouted wordlessly, and aimed his gun at Jinx.

Jinx didn't flinch as she released a hex directly at him at the exact same second.

The gun fired once and the robber was pushed backwards by the force of the hex bolt, letting go of the little old lady. He looked up just in time to see that he'd accidentally shot one end of a light fixture which swung down into his face. The fluorescent bulb shattered on his nose and his head flew back, hitting the door of a freezer, before he slumped and knew no more.

"Told you," Jinx said to Cyborg. "Let's wrap this up. We've got a dealer to interrogate." Her glare kept Nana Goodkind rooted to where she was.

Cyborg glowered at her as he dialled up emergency services. "I'll deal with her. You and me are going to have words about how you handle these things, Jinx."

"Save it for squealing to bird boy," she said flippantly. "Whenever he gets back to town, that is." She turned to the cashier, who still had her hands in the air from sheer surprise. "Let those poor folks have some hot coffee and donuts in the break room, would you? Have some yourself. Don't want you going into shock. And while you're at it..."

 

 

 

 

 

Missus Goodkind had been all too happy to divulge her information while emergency services tended to the other victims and the cops hauled the would-be robbers away. Cyborg reviewed what they had learned as he sat in the driver's seat of the T-car while Jinx happily munched on the sprinkliest donuts she'd found and washed them down with cheap coffee.

"You know Cy," she said cheerfully in between bites. "I used to make fun of cops for liking these, but after doing some patrols I can totally see the appeal of a little glucose bomb with caffeine on the night shift. Makes a lot more sense to me now."

"You're cleaning up the crumbs yourself later," Cyborg muttered, glaring at her.

"Yeesh. Don't explode with joy all at once, man." Jinx grinned right at him. "You knew what you were in for when we agreed to this partnership. I got my style."

"Didn't really have a choice, did we? Even Titans East had to dip into the honorary Titan pool thanks to the latest crisis taking up so many of us. Couldn't just leave the post unmanned."

"Please. You were smiling when you knew I was on board. How many guys can say they're that okay with spending time with their exes?"

"Hey!" Cyborg's glare finally relented. "You promised you wouldn't bring that up!"

Jinx finished the last of her donuts and slurped her coffee noisily, looking at Cyborg with one eye as he practically wilted under her gaze. "Bumblebee wasn't happy about it, then. I knew it. I'm gonna have to have a talk with that girl."

"She may have said a thing or two," he muttered. "Anyway, there's no need for you to be so..."

"Hardcore?" She grinned.

"Reckless." He frowned.

She shrugged. "Does Goodkind's info check out?"

"As far as I can tell, yeah." He looked at her. "How do you know her, anyway?"

"No one who's lived around here doesn't. Her kids go hungry often enough that practically everyone's invited them for dinner at least once. She's just the worst but her connections make her dangerous and whatever foster service she works for doesn't dare move against her."

Cyborg mulled that over. "What, even the HIVE had those kids around?"

"Sure. I've cooked some lentils and curry for them a few times when I was staying in safehouses." She smiled at Cyborg's strange look. "Look, tin man, it's like this. You know when I saw this city from the air for the first time? It was when me and my gang took over the Tower the first time from under your noses."

"Only time."

"First time," she insisted, smiling at his glare. "You guys see the city like that all the time, though. You have a top-down kind of viewpoint of events and things, it's all about big threats and giant mechanical spiders and robot armies and stuff. For me, even just leaving our base and hideouts meant I had to walk up into the street. I existed on these streets. I've seen this city from the bottom up and that means I know folks like Nana Goodkind."

"Huh." Cyborg considered this. "You know, it's starting to make sense why you were Robin's first choice for keeping watch."

"I was?" said Jinx, surprised.

"Yeah. I think he gets where you're coming from and saw how it might help us with this problem. Damn if I know how he knew that, though."

"He doesn't strike me as a street-tough kind of kid," said Jinx, nodding. "But he's damn smart."

"I'll tell him you said that."

"Only if you want your circuits corroded, tin man."

They glared at each other, then laughed.

"So what's our next move?" asked Jinx.

Cyborg brought up his arm and showed Jinx a holographic display emerging from it. "We figure out who's been smuggling prescription drugs into the city. We thought it was just the regular problem of doctors filling out a few too many here and there, but it looks like the supplier isn't even around here. It's coming from outside the city."

Jinx quirked an eyebrow. "Huh. Can't be entering the city by ship or we'd have spotted it by now. Plane, train or automobile?"

"Going by what Goodkind said..." Cyborg changed the image to show a street race. "I'd say race cars."

Jinx's face lit up like a christmas tree.

 

 

 

 

 

Ding Dong Daddy revved the engine of his latest hot rod. His pit crew for the night, his usual little gremlins and a couple of street kids looking to make a quick buck, nodded appreciatively at their handiwork as he listened to the firing cylinders.

"Nice work, kiddie-cats. Joshua, you'll get the care package for your big mama once the race is done."

One of the kids, Joshua, nodded as he wiped off his hands on his filthy jeans and adjusted the rag on his head. He'd be eating for a while from this haul.

The Ding-Dong Daddy-o drove the freshly painted hot rod to the starting line. His rides always looked ancient compared to some of the sleeker bodies on the track looking like they sprang fully-formed from an overeager eurobeat track, but he appreciated the classics and won more often than not. But even with his win record, his habit needed cash. Under his seat was the suitcase full of merchandise for downtown Jump's most connected grandma.

The revving of a latecomer's engine behind them caught his attention. That cylinder firing was a sound etched into the Daddy-o's mind. In his side mirror he saw the blue and white of the Titans' hi-tech ride.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't a bit o' Titanic trouble come knockin'."

The flag fell, and the racers floored it. Ding Dong Daddy laughed his best. Tonight was going to be fun!

 

 

 

 

 

"Damn!" said Cyborg. "We're too late! The race already started!"

"Keep driving," said Jinx. "I know this route. They're going up Spring Mountain for the first section and then drifting down the other side for the final stretch. We'll just have to catch him on the road."

"Are you crazy? Do you know what happened the last time we raced him in the T-car?"

"Yeah, and that's why you're going to pop the top hatch, use your cannons and let me take the wheel this time."

"You? What are you going to do that I can't?"

"Race." Jinx's slitted eyes glittered as the streetlights passed.

 

 

 

 

  
  
The sonic wave blast narrowly missed Ding Dong Daddy's ride. A few stragglers saw where this was heading and cut the gas, dropping out of the race. The ones who didn't only got more excited.

"Well razz my berries," the Daddy-o said. "If he's firin' on all cylinders back there, then who's he got behind that wheel?" He couldn't quite make the mystery driver out in the dark yet.

He waved his hand over his control panel, each button corresponding to a different gadget. For most races he found no use for them, not even in the crazy scene that was Jump City's night circuit. Ice blasters, flame throwers, spike trappers... his finger rested on the one he wanted.

"Let's get flashy!" A spotlight emerged from the hot rod's rear and blinked itself on, blinding drivers behind him. One driver veered and turned and spun out. Cyborg stopped firing, covering his eyes with his arm, but his car didn't slow down for a second as it weaved past drivers who were still adjusting to the light.

Then he noticed who was driving the car, two horns of hair illuminated by the light.

"I'll be jitterbugged," he said, swallowing hard. Things were getting a little too interesting.

 

 

 

 

 

"Damn! How can you even see where you're going, Jinx?" Cyborg blinked his natural eye clear, his cybernetic one still rebooting from the overload.

"Who says I can?" she said, switching gears almost unconsciously as she dodged and weaved. She flashed a grin at a neighboring car, which immediately hit the brakes and turned away.

"Hey, why did that car just quit?" asked Cyborg, baffled.

"He saw I was driving," Jinx said. "Weak. Back in the day they'd at least stick the race out."

"Wait. What? Jinx, do these guys know you?"

The car's radio came alive, Jinx having tuned it to the racer's channel. "Be advised, all racers! Jinx is in the race! Repeat, The pink terror is driving that white-blue car!"

"Oh dang." Cyborg gulped. "You didn't tell me you had a reputation!"

"You wouldn't have let me drive if I had," she said. "I haven't raced since Gizmo banned me from driving his cars."

"And why did he ban you?"

"Apparently he and everyone else racing liked getting their cars back afterwards. Dangest thing, right?"

"Tell me you're joking, Jinx!"

Jinx answered by switching gears and accelerating hard enough that Cyborg had to fight to hold his footing.

 

 

 

 

 

Ding Dong Daddy hit the pedal hard as the hot rod ascended the first slope of Spring Mountain. On your average day the mountain was just a tourist spot, home to a quiet hotel and a shockingly successful vegetarian restaurant renowned for its tofu dishes. But on a race night, it became the swingiest, curviest, most dangerous race track within a hundred miles, and visitors were warned never to drive after sundown.

Tonight, the Daddy-o was going to make the mountain live up to that reputation. He drove into one of the ascending bends, drifting slightly, and pressed a button on his dash.

"When their heels are on fire, it's best to give them a chance to cool off!"

Several of the engine's exhausts filled with frozen vapors and gas, expelling the mixture onto the road. It quickly became covered in ice, and he watched the rear view with glee. One of the regular cars immediately lost its grip on the road and crashed harshly into the railing, narrowly escaping falling to its doom. The blue T-car wobbled a little but recovered suddenly, missing the benched racer by an inch or less as it drifted upwards and sped up again.

He grimaced and pressed another button, releasing dozens of caltrops onto the road.

 

 

 

 

 

Cyborg clambered back into the passenger seat. "Oh no you don't, ya ding-dong!"

He pressed a button on the T-car's dash, and the tires were suddenly covered with a spiky metal casing, harmlessly scattering and flattening the caltrops it passed over. A car behind them wasn't so lucky and sent sparks flying as it spun on its now bare rims.

"Nice!" said Jinx. "You got any more handy upgrades lurking in there?"

"Plenty," he said. "You focus on driving, I focus on countering his tricks." The car had slowed down on its metal casings, not gripping the road as firmly as rubber could, and another racer overtook them just in time to get hit with what looked like a firebomb. Cyborg watched as the driver spun to a halt, bringing out a fire extinguisher to save the stricken ride.

Jinx laughed in a way Cyborg could only have described as a cackle. He gulped again, wondering if he was making the right decision as they turned and saw the hot rod letting out a huge puddle of oil at an internal bend.

"Aw, hell! Jinx, the armored tires aren't going to work on oil!"

"Only one thing for it!" she said, and turned into the cliff.

"What the he-" Cyborg's voice lost all cohesion as Jinx simply drove off the road, using the metal wheels' grip and their momentum to practically drive sideways on the mountain itself, snagging up leaves and roots as they went. Jinx rounded the entire bend like that, bypassing the oil entirely, before driving down onto the road again with a loud bump, probably damaging something in the process. The metal surrounding the tires shredded itself apart and Cyborg quickly retracted it before it could shred the rubber tires with it.

"This is crazy," he mumbled. "This is crazy and we're gonna die."

Jinx laughed again.

 

 

 

 

 

"That rod's got new tricks," Ding Dong Daddy mumbled. "And mine are running low. This is going to nowheresville, and fast." He pressed another button which sent several rockets flying backwards at the T-car. One of them seemingly impacted on its right side, but it didn't even slow down, the missile apparently countered by hidden point-defense weapons.

"Time for a refit," he said, pressing the button that would call for his backup.

 

 

 

 

 

"Aw no," said Cyborg. "Here comes his pit crew!"

"His what?" said Jinx, focused on the hot rod ahead of them.

A shadow passed over the car and drove ahead of them. The structure was on wheels wider than the lane, allowing it to simply drive over them. Jinx glanced to the sides and saw its crew, mostly odd-looking gremlins of some kind - demonic, perhaps? She'd have to consult with Raven - and a kid that looked familiar to her.

"Hell’s bells. That's Joshua!"

"Who?" asked Cyborg.

"One of Nana Goodkind's foster kids. I guess that confirms what we were thinking."

Joshua gawked at them as the mobile pit stop passed, clearly recognizing the duo in the car.

"That kid could get hurt out there," said Cyborg.

"Let's not let that happen, then," said Jinx, grimacing.

 

 

 

 

 

"Lighten my load, kiddie-cats! Ding Dong Daddy's gonna try tearing ass legit!"

The gremlins, plus one kid, worked quickly to remove as many of the useless gadgets from the car as they could and replacing the tires for extra grip. The Daddy-o was taking this seriously, it seemed, wanting the hot rod as light as he could for the final stretch.

"And when you're done, see what you can do 'bout the entourage!"

Joshua gulped. This was more than he'd signed up for. The little gremlins cheered, and as soon as they'd released the rod back onto the road they drove back, readying spanners and power tools for their attack.

 

 

 

 

  
  
Cyborg climbed back through the skylight and took aim. "Damn! I can't risk shooting that thing while the kid's on board!"

"You focus on rescuing him! I'm gonna do my pink terror special!"

"What's a pink terror special?"

Jinx didn't answer, instead aiming the car deliberately into the middle of the incoming mobile workshop, and focused. Her hands and eyes started glowing, releasing pink hex-energy into the steering wheel. 

"Hey! What the-" Cyborg was cut off as an imp tried to leap onto the car. He swatted it away with a sonic blast. Then the car started shaking like mad. As he watched, the rims of the T-car started spinning with crackling pink energy, releasing waves of it behind as if they were driving over an energetic pink puddle. Paint flaked off and little nuts and bolts came loose, making the whole car rattle.

"Catch the kid!" Jinx said as she released her spell.

As one, the pink waves crashed into the gantry on all sides. Tools exploded. Oil ignited. Tires ruptured. The entire structure shook itself apart, weaving and bobbing wildly as bits of it flew off. The kid lost his footing and Cyborg only barely caught him by the arm as the entire pit stop came apart, scattering tools, parts and shouting gremlins all around it. One of them hit the windshield, and Jinx contemptuously activated the windscreen wiper and wiped it off as it cursed at her in some unintelligible language.

"I got ya, kid!" Cyborg said, taking Joshua inside the car and depositing him in the rear. "Put your seatbelt on!"

Joshua complied, not knowing what else to do. Things were weird enough already.

Cyborg furiously turned to Jinx. "And Jinx, don't you ever do something like that to my baby again! You've done more damage than the ding-dong has!"

"And we're only now getting to the good part," she replied.

"What's that mean? Hey! I said, what is that supposed to mean!"

"It means," said Joshua, "that we're getting into the downhill. That's when the race starts getting dangerous. Oh man, I'm in Jinx's car on the downhill. Tell Nana I hated her when they bury me!"

Cyborg's face fell. "STARTS getting dangerous?!"

 

 

 

 

 

The Spring Mountain race wasn't a spectator sport for the city outskirts or the uphill, except for the radio-carrying spotters who tracked the progress of the race for the bookies. It was on the downhill back towards Jump City where the crowds gathered. That was when the magic happened.

The downhill was littered with blind curves and bends, forcing racers to memorize and study the track carefully. The only way to accelerate down the mountain was to engage in a series of dangerous drifts with short straight sections in between to allow for speed, culminating in a series of hairpin curves near the end. It was a test of endurance and skill, of a car's build, and of the driver's ability to judge their speed and the need for braking. You could bring the fastest car in the world to Spring Mountain, and you might still finish last if you didn't watch your drift. 

If you finished, that is.

Tonight, the news that Jinx was racing had spread like wildfire. Within the fifteen or so minutes the early portion of the race allowed, attendance had more than doubled. Every curve was packed with bystanders.

And because it was Jinx racing, the bookies were placing some unusual odds.

 

 

 

 

 

"We don't have a chance," said Joshua. "We just refit the hot rod with extra grip and lower load, and this car has been through hell. That thing simply has more acceleration than this ride does! It's just going to make us eat dust on every straightway!"

"Ever seen me on the drift, kid?" asked Jinx.

"I've heard stories, but-"

"They're all true!"

"Even the one that says you finished a race once?"

Jinx thought about that one. "No, that one's a fib. Oh well."

Cyborg looked at Jinx. "Are you telling me we're this deep into this race and you've never even passed the finish line?"

"Hey, if I don't pass, no one does. That's how it usually goes."

"We're doomed," he said, his head in his hands.

"We're not here to win, tin man. We're here to take Ding Dong Daddy down. Eye on the prize."

"Oh. Right." He brightened up considerably. "We can do that."

"I'm still shooting to finish though, just so you know."

"Jinx!"

"Aw, man," said Joshua. "There goes my meal ticket."

Cyborg looked back at the kid thoughtfully.

"Everything has consequences, Cyborg." Jinx turned another bend, looking more focused than she had up until that point as she maintained contact with the hot rod in front of her. "Even the good things. Let's just focus on the moment."

Cyborg grimaced, but said nothing.

They crested the highest point of the road, the hot rod a car's length ahead. As soon as they hit the downslope, the problem was clear: the hot rod took off faster than the T-car could.

"We're never gonna catch up with him like this!" said Cyborg.

"Ever seen a drift race, Cy?" said Jinx, her playful tone gone. Her body seemed relaxed, but her eyes were intense.

"No, but-"

"Watch. He's going to slow down right about now so he doesn't flip over in the curve."

Just like magic, the hot rod's stop lights flicked on and the car slowed before drifting at precipitous speed into the bend. Already the T-car made headway towards catching up.

"Uh, Jinx? You're not slowing down."

She didn't even grin. Somehow, this made Cyborg even more worried. Then she hit the pedal and accelerated into the bend.

"Jinx?!"

 

 

 

 

 

Ding Dong Daddy looked at the T-car in the rearview, hit the brake, and eased the hot rod into the drift. His lead was too large for the other car to even catch up, and he smiled. He'd blow them off and be and well on his way to a safe garage by the time they even got down the mountain, with no time done in the cooler.

Then the car behind him didn't slow. It burned rubber instead.

"The hell... has that little pink bird flipped her lid?"

Then the T-car turned into the curve, and Ding Dong Daddy knew he was in trouble.

He had elected to stay on the inner edge of the bend to conserve some momentum, but he'd had to slow down to do it. The T-car had accelerated into the bend, curving on its outside edge, drifting what looked like a mere inch from the guard rail at a much faster speed. By the time the bend straightened out, the cars were equal despite the huge lead mere moments before. He glanced over and saw Jinx doing the same to him.

He floored it, and the hot rod left the T-car in the dust again. But this time, he was sweating.

 

 

 

 

 

Cyborg screamed as Jinx entered the bend at incredible speed and simply drifted the car around the edge, shocking bystanders on the edge of the road, practically bowling one of them over with sheer wind force. He heard Joshua yelling in the back, equally terrified. His internal systems were linked into his baby, including the backing sensors, and at first he couldn't believe what he was seeing. According to the rear bumper sensor, the car's rear had been within an inch of the guard rail the entire bend!

The hot rod took off again in front of them, and Cyborg looked over at Jinx furiously working the manual shift with an eerie aura of calm about her. A strange pink glow had begun to form in her eyes and around her fingers seemingly without her noticing.

Joshua's voice reached his ears from the back. "Oh man. Oh man. It's real. The Pink Terror of Spring Mountain is for real!"

They came up on the next bend, the hot rod slowing down as before. And just as before, Jinx didn't slow down at all. Cyborg heard himself and Joshua scream, even as the number flashed in his cybernetic eye. Closest distance: 1.3 centimeters. If one of the people watching had had their hand on the guardrail, they might have just escaped losing their fingers. He looked over and saw Ding Dong Daddy's disbelieving face looking right at them.

The hot rod took off again, and Cyborg gulped as he saw the pink glow from Jinx spread across the vehicle, retracting his hand as it crawled up the door next to him. He still vividly remembered the last time her magic had engulfed the car.

Joshua's voice sounded shaky from the back. "This is how she's going to beat him? This is nuts!"

"What do you mean?" asked Cyborg.

"She's seriously trying to outspeed that hot rod by just not braking into the curves! He has to slow down constantly to take the shortest route through them, but she just goes in at speed all the time to catch up!"

"It seems to be working!" said Cyborg.

"That's because these are the easy curves! There's a half-dozen hairpin bends at the end of this track one after the other! No one can drift all of them at top speed!"

His frantic explanation was cut off as they entered another bend. 1.1 centimeters from the guard rail. More worrying was that the hot rod was also entering the curve faster this time, its rear mere inches from the T-car as well as it frantically fought to maintain its grip on the inner side of the bend. The glow engulfed them completely, giving the car an eerie look.

Jinx didn't say a word, apparently unconcerned.

 

 

 

 

 

Cameras and phones were out to capture the Pink Terror in action. There was no mistaking that it was her. Everyone had heard the stories about cars that erupted into ghostly pink light, pulling absolutely mad moves that only the luckiest or most stupid would ever attempt. If even a single pebble was out of place on the road, a car drifting like this one did would spin right off the side of the mountain. And this road was no professionally-cleaned race track.

Even then, the audience remained glued to each rail, every terrifying moment captured for posterity. Everyone wanted to be the one to capture the money shot of when the Pink Terror's luck ran out.

The bookie odds kept coming in. Top odds: no one would make it past the finish line.

 

 

 

 

 

The Daddy-o knew that the moment he gave in to his rising panic was the moment he'd be out of the race. But he knew, absolutely, that there was no way Jinx was going to maintain her pace through the hairpin turns. She would have to brake into them. And in a race of whose car was fastest, he'd win every time.

And he certainly wasn't going to allow her to overtake him from the outside. In this kind of race, that was the ultimate insult. All he had to do was maintain his dominance of the inner lane and he'd win. He'd forgotten about getting away; this was now about the code of the road.

He let himself drift just a little harder into the next curve, giving the T-car almost no space to exist on the outer lane, but it still maintained its pitch-perfect timing no matter how far he forced it. Even with less than one lane to maneuver in, her drift was steadfast. Any closer and he'd crash into her, a losing proposition for them both since he'd had his traps and spikes removed.

The hairpins were up ahead. Time to end this.

 

 

 

 

 

Cyborg didn't think there were more screams left in his body. He quickly proved himself wrong. For the first time, Jinx hit the brakes harder as she entered a curve, just enough to maintain her distance. 8 millimeters from the guard rail. Less than half an inch.

"Three more," he heard her mutter.

"What? There's more than three bends left!" said Joshua.

"Three is what I need to win," she replied, and curved into another bend, keeping pace with the hot rod. Cyborg's electronic eye could see the brakes on the car in front of them glow red with heat as Ding Dong Daddy fought to maintain control from Jinx's unrelenting attack.

"Two," said Jinx, braking and turning again. 6 millimeters. The statistic almost burned itself into Cyborg's mechanical retina. He couldn't hear his own yelling anymore.

"One", said Jinx, and Cyborg immediately realized what she meant. Her drift hadn't been limited to the edge of the road this entire time, but by the aggressive guard rails. This bend didn't have one. There would be no number for how close to the edge of the road she'd go.

Bystanders scattered as they saw her approach, the T-car's pink-glowing tires touching the gravel at the road's very edge, the rear extending far beyond it, ripping into foliage. And this time, it was enough. Jinx had the angle she needed.

She overtook the hot rod on the outside. The ultimate insult.

Cyborg saw Ding Dong Daddy's furious expression in the rearview as they entered yet another bend, the T-car this time dominating the inside to keep the hot rod from using it. He didn't dare to try Jinx's stunt, electing for a slower turn, and the T-car began to leave it behind. One car length. Two.

 

 

 

 

  
  
Ding Dong Daddy was pissed. Straight up pissed. Pissed enough to forget his affected slang, pissed enough to forego pleasantries. He wasn't going to lose to a half-dead beater he'd played rocket tag with. Not to some girl who'd never finished a race she was in. But he was running out of time. He had to attack the car to regain the lead now, or never gain it again.

"Well, if she can do it, so can I!"

 

 

 

 

  
  
Cyborg watched with horrified fascination as the hot rod forewent the brakes and entered the next hairpin on the outside, trying to replicate Jinx's stunt. It went in hard, the tires squealing as they inched closer to the guardrail. But for him, there would be no statistic.

The rear tire impacted on a bolt sticking out of the rail, and it ripped itself apart. The rod screeched down the road, sending sparks flying everywhere behind it.

Even as he watched, they left him behind. Cyborg couldn't believe it.

"Uh, Jinx?"

Jinx didn't answer.

"Jinx, he's out of the race. You can chill. All we need to do is drive back and get him."

"Give me this, Cy."

"What?"

She glanced at him, still not noticing the glow from her own eyes. "Give me this win. Then we can go. Please?"

Cyborg looked at Joshua who was looking at Jinx, awestruck, then looked back at her again. Then he nodded, smiling.

"Okay. Go for it, Jinx."

"Now all the stories are going to be true," Joshua said.

Jinx smiled. Not a grin, but a genuine smile.

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, all they'd had to do was wait by the finish line. The hot rod, unheeding of the damage it was doing to itself, was limping its way on three wheels the rest of the way. When it finally came to rest in front of them, Ding Dong Daddy stepped out of it and simply fell over, exhausted. They'd been the only two cars to finish.

Jinx wasn't faring much better, shaking like a leaf from the rush of her life. The heat emanating from her couldn't be normal, in Cyborg's opinion. She was still apparently unaware of whatever magic trick she'd used on the downhill.

As Cyborg clamped the cuffs around Ding Dong Daddy's wrists, he heard Joshua's moan.

"Man, does this mean Nana Goodkind's been taken in too?"

"'Fraid so, kiddo," said Jinx, despite them being fairly close in age.

"Well." he sighed. "I mean, me not eating tonight is a fair price. No one's ever going to believe what I've seen. I'm just worried about the little ones."

"We better get going," said Cyborg. "As long as the car doesn't shake itself apart on the way downtown."

"Can I drive?" said Jinx cheekily.

"No. Where did you even get your driver's license to drive like that?"

"My what license?"

Cyborg looked her in the eye, trying to determine if she was joking. For once, she clearly wasn't. He groaned. "Aw, man. Robin's gonna kill me."

"Only if you squeal. Anyway, why are we going downtown? That's not the most direct route to the Tower."

Cyborg smiled and turned to the kid. "Joshua, where do you and Nana's other kids live?"

 

 

 

 

 

Cyborg barbequed up a storm, complete with a second grill just for the special kebab for Jinx's benefit. She might not be a great Hindu, or even a good one, but she'd been making more of an effort to reconnect herself for a while. And while Cyborg was adamantly not a grass biter like the green twerp, he could respect a commitment like that.

Around the table in the Titans' common room were five kids. Franklin and Joshua he'd already seen. Cindy, Maliq and tiny little Mary he'd not, all of them under ten years old. For the older kids he cooked hamburgers, for the little ones sausages, and for himself he made the juiciest steak he'd made in a long time. He felt like he deserved it after tonight.

"This is just about the coolest thing you've done, Cyborg." Jinx watched as the kids played with each other, waiting for their refills and joking around.

"Hey, give yourself credit. You made me appreciate the street-level view tonight. I’ve already contacted some people to give them something more permanent."

"And just for that, I'll be nice to Bumblebee too." She was tired, but clearly recovering from the night's ordeal. “Wow, I still feel like a wreck. I am so out of practice with racing.”

“When did you get into racing, anyway?”

“I was a reckless kid before I joined the HIVE and then I got Gizmo on my team after I joined. You figure it out. Wasted a lot of cars over the years even before I got onto a circuit.” She looked thoughtful as she sliced a little early slice off her kebab. “I wonder what was different this time. Why did I make it all the way to the end now, of all times?”

“Maybe it’s what you were racing for.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re all about luck, and karma and stuff like that. What if doing it for a good reason made you luckier?”

Jinx looked at him, at the kids, then at him again. She blushed a little. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff,” she said.

“I’ve learned magic doesn’t really care what the universe says.”

She looked at the kids again. “That karma theory makes a lot more sense than I’d like,” she said. “Although the implication that some of my bad luck has been my own fault is… I’d rather not think about that right now.”

"As for what we tell Robin," he said, changing the subject before Jinx had the chance to lapse into one of her depressive episodes. "The T-car is my responsibility, and I'm taking responsibility for my actions. I should have been the one ensuring that only a licensed driver was behind the wheel, so I'll just say I was driving if someone asks if you promise to get yourself licensed as soon as you can, alright? We can't have the news spread that the Titans are driving illegally. We have to set a good example."

Jinx grinned. "Yeah, yeah, you can say you won the race on all official channels. It's not like the ones who matter won't know the truth."

"I'm just happy my baby won the triple-D rematch. I'm still going to make you sit through Robin's hostage negotiation seminar."

Jinx stuck out her tongue at him.

Cyborg's arm emitted a short little tune, and he flipped a panel open. "Cyborg here."

"I hear you had some trouble in Jump City tonight," came Robin's voice.

"And hello to you too, my man," Cyborg answered. "Nothing me and Jinx couldn't handle."

"Do I hear kids behind you?" Robin asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Just entertaining a few guests. I'll put it in the report."

"Good. Maybe your report can explain this, too." Robin lifted a pad to the screen. On it was a breaking headline from an online paper.

 

**TEEN TITANS SPOTTED AT ILLEGAL STREET RACE**

 

Cyborg felt Jinx's pat on his arm. "I'll let you take the responsibility for your actions, alright?" She scarpered away before Cyborg could stop her.

"Jinx! Jinx, get back here!"


End file.
